Her Rebel Cowboy: Rodeo Knights, A Western Romance Page 6

  Noelle relaxed against Wyatt as she listened to him. She could hear the edge to his voice, showing her the complexity of his relationship with his father. She felt a slight tinge of jealousy as he spoke about Octavia being the first to believe in him, a surprising emotion, given that she’d just met him.

  “No one had ever seen me the way Octavia presented me in her article. Because of her, I became the rising star of the tour, a rookie who had the potential to be the best. I became pretty arrogant, convinced that I ruled the world.” He ground his jaw, thinking back to that period of his life, when he was so caught up in the glam and the glory. “I became a complete ass, I got sucked up into all the glamour and glitz, just the way my dad had, so long ago. At the start of my second season, I proposed to Octavia, and she said yes. I thought I had it all. I thought that I’d figured out what mattered.”

  Noelle glanced over her shoulder, surprised by his comment that he’d become like his dad. “Did you cheat like he did?” Even as she asked the question, she knew the answer. There was no way the man with his arms around her had a dishonest bone in his body. Her soul knew it, without question.

  “No, but it was close.” His body tensed, and Noelle knew that he was about to get to the nitty-gritty, to the ugly part. “I made the finals of the tour that year. I was the front-runner to win the championship. On the night before the last day of the finals, I was tied for first with two rounds to ride the next night. I was feeling good, and I knew I had a chance to win. Octavia…” He paused, and she felt his arms tighten around her waist. “Octavia came to my hotel room that night. She said she had a chance for us to earn a shit ton of money. She said the odds were in my favor to win, but if I got bucked off the bull, we could both earn two hundred grand.”

  Noelle stiffened, startled. “She wanted you to throw the finals? After all you had worked to accomplish?”

  Wyatt felt the hardness settle in his gut, just like it had that moment when he stared at Octavia, realization dawning. “Yeah, she did. Turns out, she was also shacking up with the bull rider who was tied for first. He wanted to win, and he agreed to split his winnings if I pulled my ride. He got a couple bookies to chip in, and it was set up to be a big payout. Apparently…” The bile churned in his throat, that same sick feeling of betrayal. “Apparently, she made the same offer to the rider in second, who she was also sleeping with. Both of us get bucked off, and her number one wins. She was planning to take out half a million between all the deals. Half a damned million.”

  Noelle felt sick to her stomach at his words. How could anyone betray someone like that, someone they loved, someone who loved them? “I’m so sorry, Wyatt. What did you do?”

  “I turned her in. She lost her job. The other two bull riders denied knowing anything about her plan, so they were cleared. People accused me of making up shit to try to get them kicked off. It got ugly, and we all got bucked off in the final round, and someone else won. Octavia got another job on the tour, but she hates me now, as do the other two bull riders involved, both of whom said I initiated it. Nothing was proven, so we were all cleared, but it got us labeled.”

  Noelle bit her lip, feeling the tension in Wyatt’s body as he spoke. “She betrayed you,” she said softly. “She said she loved you, and then betrayed you. That’s the worst kind of betrayal.”

  “Yeah.” Wyatt took a deep breath, feeling the way Noelle settled more deeply against him. She didn’t pull away, she didn’t judge him for being so stupid. She just wrapped her hand around his wrist, an unspoken gesture of support. Something inside him tightened, something deeper than he’d felt in a long time. “Octavia turned on me, not the others. She told everyone it was my idea, and that I’d turned her in after I chickened out. She had no proof, but the seed was planted, especially given my dad. So, yeah, since then, there’s an invisible asterisk next to every single ride I take.”

  And now, thanks to that cursed ride two months ago, there would never be any doubt in anyone’s mind that he was a cheater. “Even though I was cleared of that bull ride a couple months ago, the damage is done. Everything I do will be dirty.” And he hated that, hated that more than anything. “That’s why I’m riding this weekend. I’m not going to walk away and let those bastards take riding away from me.” He heard the anger in his voice, and he hated it. He hated that he was pissed, that he let them get to him, but he couldn’t stop it.

  Noelle was silent for a moment, and the only sound was the hammering of the rain, and the sound of his horse’s feet sloshing through the muddy puddles. Then she spoke. “Did your dad really cheat?”

  “Yeah. I asked him just before he died. He did.” He’d finally posed that question a year ago, when he’d been set up by Octavia. He’d finally realized that maybe his dad’s claims of innocence all those years had been true. He’d realized that maybe he’d judged his dad too harshly. He’d had hope for a split second that his dad was worth all the effort he’d put into winning his approval. “He cheated for years before they caught him.” He waited for the question again, for her to ask again whether he’d cheated.

  But she didn’t. She was quiet, and his tension began to rise, wondering what she was thinking. He’d learned long ago not to be held back by what anyone thought of him, to tell people to fuck off if they judged him, but as he sat there with Noelle in his arms, he became increasingly tense, waiting for her response. He realized that he needed her to believe his innocence. No one except Bunny and Brody fully believed his innocence, and suddenly, he needed Noelle to. He didn’t know why, but he did.

  With every bit of his broken, trampled soul.

  Chapter 9

  Finally, she spoke. “Getting you kicked off the tour for cheating sounds like something that Octavia, or those other two cowboys would do. Why are you so sure it wasn’t them?”

  Her question shocked him, making him realize that she hadn’t even bothered to wonder about his innocence. She’d accepted it automatically, and had already moved on to figuring out who might have done it. She believed his innocence. Sudden emotion rushed through him, a surging turmoil of feelings, and a tightness in his chest. “Because Jesse was convinced it was attempted murder. Murder is different than cheating. Octavia and the others want money, not blood on their hands. They wouldn’t do it.”

  Noelle heard the conviction in his voice, and her heart ached for him. He wanted to believe in Octavia, in the men who were his peers. Despite all the betrayal, both by Octavia and the tour, Wyatt needed to prove to himself he hadn’t been completely wrong in believing in them at one time.

  She wanted him to be right, but at the same time, she’d written too many mysteries not to know that the most devastating betrayal possible was by those you loved, those you believed in the most. Yeah, in fiction that was the best kind of bad guy to write, but in real life, it happened as well, much too often.

  “You believe me, don’t you?” His question was quiet, almost a whisper, a question he didn’t really want to ask, that he was half hoping she didn’t hear.

  She heard. Not only did she hear the question he posed, but she also heard the yearning in his soul, the one that needed someone to believe in him. So, she twisted around in the saddle and looked at him, at his icy blue eyes, at the shadows on his face. She saw the man who lived with honor, who had fought for everything against the shadows that weren’t his. Her heart turned over, and she set her hands on either side of his face. “I have absolutely no doubt that you are a man of integrity and honor. I don’t believe for even a second that you cheated. We’ll figure out what happened, and we will clear your name. For good.”

  He searched her face. “It’s impossible to clear my name for good,” he said. “It’s too tainted. But I’m not walking away. People think I shouldn’t ride this weekend, that I shouldn’t be back. Screw that. I’m back.” But his voice was tense, too tense, and she knew what he was thinking.

  “But you can’t get your groove, right? Like I can’t find my muse?”

  He sighed. “Yeah. I ne
ed to win the next three events to have a shot at winning the title.”

  “Which will shut them all up, right?”

  He laughed. “Yeah, well, something like that.”

  “You can’t find your rhythm, and I can’t find my muse, and we both desperately need to.” She settled back against him, sounding thoughtful. “Maybe we were meant to find each other and help each other pull our talents out of the swamp they’ve sunk into.”

  Wyatt rested his chin on her shoulder, thinking about that as they neared the ranch. “So, solving my attempted murder might help us both. You can turn my life into a bestselling novel, and I can be freed from the burden and focus on riding, not the bullshit.”

  “Maybe.” She ran her hands over his wrists, feeling lighter than she had in a long time. “I’m not going to lie. In a weird, kind of macabre sort of way, I think the idea of solving your almost murder sounds like fun. But I’m an author, so I’m totally weird and insane like that.”

  He laughed. “Yeah, well, I’m a bull rider, so I’m off the charts mentally anyway. You have to be to ride.” He held out his hand to her. “Let’s make a deal. Let’s channel our insanity, find the scumbag who tried to get me killed, and then go kick some ass in our professional careers. Deal?”

  She set her hand in his, feeling happier than she had in a long time. “I can’t believe you aren’t horrified by how much fun I think this sounds.”

  “I can’t believe you aren’t horrified by the fact you’re riding a horse with a guy who has a murderer hunting him, who plans to go against all common sense and ride bulls for the next month just so he can get a shot at a title no one wants him to have.”

  She smiled as they touched hands. “I was kind of horrified that you were willing to risk death when I first met you–”

  “You mean, about an hour ago?”

  She laughed. “Yes, about then. I was kind of horrified because I spent three years watching my husband die a horrible death, but I see now that it’s your fire and your willingness not to care about death that makes you live.” She ran her hand over his wrist, noting how freaking strong it was. He was strong because he wasn’t afraid to die, to fail, to crash and burn. “To really live, you have to let the fire inside you burn, don’t you?”

  She felt his nod against her shoulder, as he flipped her hand over and enfolded it in his. “Yeah, you do. If you kill the fire that makes you who you are, you’re dead already. Even if the rest of the entire damn world thinks you should shut it down, you still gotta go forward.”

  Her heart tightened at his words, and she suddenly realized that that was exactly what she had done for so long. She’d been afraid to live, afraid to be happy, afraid to dance in her life, afraid that to do so would insult David, what he’d gone through, what he’d suffered. How could she be happy when he was gone? When he had suffered? When his brother was teetering on the edge?

  God, she wanted to live with fierce passion. She wanted to not worry or obsess about how things might turn out. She wanted to unleash the fire that she’d killed off so long ago. She wanted to not be afraid to be who she was anymore. Ever.

  “Barn’s up ahead.” He pointed past her, and she looked ahead to see two large barns in front of her. Both looked like they’d been well-used, with their faded wood and peeling paint, but they looked sturdy and solid. Functional, not flashy, and she liked them. It felt more her than spending her nights in a fancy restaurant, worrying about whether the linens had been properly pressed, or whether the food was plated with enough aplomb to make even the most discerning diner sigh with appreciation.

  She didn’t want fancy plates. She didn’t care. She wanted fire and life and passion.

  “The barn on the left, the big one, is for the bulls. Bunny has a small breeding operation, but she has two great bulls that are turning out some great stock. The barn on the right is for the horses. Can’t have a ranch without horses, right?” As he spoke, he turned his head toward the destination in question. “See the house on the hill? That’s Bunny’s place. That’s where you’ll be.”

  Noelle looked up the hill at the white ranch house perched above the barns. It was also old and somewhat faded, but there were brightly colored flowers decorating it. It was a small ranch house, with a huge deck on the right side, looking over the property, including both barns and the two corrals up ahead. She imagined herself sitting out there with her computer, and something softened inside her. Something that felt good. Something that felt strong. Something that felt like her. “It’s perfect,” she whispered.

  “Perfect?” Wyatt peered past her, frowning. He’d never considered the house as anything other than a functional building. He narrowed his eyes, trying to see what had put that reverence in Noelle’s voice. “The flowers?”

  “Everything.” Her fingers tightened around his wrists. “I love it. I love this whole place. It’s amazing.”

  Now, that, he understood. He looked across the property as he directed his horse to the barn. He’d spent many, many hours on that property, helping out Bunny, making sure things ran correctly. The place was a nugget, a sliver of gold that just needed the right hand to make it happen. For a split second, he thought of Brody’s comment that he should take over when Bunny sold it, but he quickly dismissed it.

  He was a bull rider, and he needed to be free to do what he did best, not bound to a ranch that would trap him. So, he simply shrugged. “Yeah, it’s a good place.”

  “Good? It’s great.” Her voice faded as they neared the barn. “Where do you stay?”

  Wyatt nodded to the northwest. “Bunk house behind the bull barn.”

  She looked over at it, and he followed her glance to the small, two room building. It was small, simple, spartan. Took care of his needs just fine. But as he looked at it, he had a sudden vision of Noelle walking in there, of the way that she would light up that place, making the old building start to breathe in a way it hadn’t breathed in a very long time.

  Shit. He wanted her, didn’t he? He didn’t just want her. He needed her. He needed her light. Her energy. Her lack of judgment. He needed the way she made him feel, like he was the breath that made her heart beat.

  Bunny would kick his ass if he messed with her guest. Swearing, he directed Lightning into the barn, tightening his arm around Noelle’s waist as they rode straight in. He needed to get off that horse, get Noelle up to the house, and disentangle himself from the spell she was casting on him.

  He reined his mount to a halt, then swung his leg back to dismount, wanting nothing more than to get away from the temptation that Noelle posed…because a deeper part of him didn’t want to move away from her for even a second.

  His boots thudded on the wood floor, and he instinctively reached up to help her down. He caught her around the waist as she slid off, steadying her as she lost her balance. Her hips were warm and curvy beneath his palms, and temptation coursed through him.

  Swearing, he dropped his hands and stepped back just as she turned to face him. Her cheeks were glistening with rain, her hair plastered to her head, her face pale from the cold. But it was her eyes, always her eyes, that caught his attention. He swore, and moved a step toward her, just enough to trace his fingers along her jaw. “Your eyes are incredible. So much sadness, so much strength, so much courage. So much…realness.”

  She looked up at him, not moving away from him. “I’ve felt numb for so long,” she whispered, “but in such a short time, you’ve made my heart start to beat again. I feel like I’m coming to life again, or maybe for the first time ever.” She put her hand on his, holding his fingers to her face. “Thank you for that, Wyatt.”

  He laughed softly. “Sweetheart, you’re restoring my faith in humanity. I’m the one who owes you.” His smile faded as his gaze settled on her face. The air between them seemed to thicken, and suddenly he knew that despite his best intentions, he was going to kiss her.

  Right then.

  Right there.

  Regardless of whether it was the proper
thing to do.

  He was going to kiss her, because he was pretty damn certain that if he didn’t, his heart would never beat right again.

  Chapter 10

  Wyatt was going to kiss her.

  Noelle’s heart started to hammer when she saw the expression on Wyatt’s face, and her stomach trembled. She hadn’t had a first kiss in years, and she hadn’t wanted one.

  Until now. Until Wyatt. Until he’d touched her cheek with his fingers, and made her feel alive again.

  He waited, and she knew he was giving her a chance to stop him.

  She didn’t.

  After a moment, understanding dawned in his eyes, a realization that she wasn’t going to make him stop. A small smile of satisfaction curved the corners of his insanely sexy mouth, and his fingers tightened on her jaw. “My breath of sunshine,” he whispered, as he bent his head and leaned toward her.

  Noelle’s heart leapt the moment she felt his lips touch hers. His kiss was a tender, sweet, decadent caress that flooded her with emotions. Need. Longing. Desire. And a sense of being treasured, as if she were the most precious soul he could ever hold in his arms. He was strong and rugged, a powerhouse that didn’t need anything from her…and yet he still wanted her. His fingers stroked along her jaw as he kissed her, his lips evoking swirls of pleasure as she surrendered to him.

  With a low groan, he slid his free arm around her waist, drawing her against him. Her belly pressed against his belt buckle, the heat from his body pouring into her. His hold on her was solid and strong, a wall of support that made her feel safe, not threatened, despite his strength.

  He angled his head, deepening the kiss, asking for more. With a low sigh of pleasure, she couldn’t contain, she kissed him back, allowing herself to melt into his embrace.